Introspective Blogging: "The Weakness In Me

Our strength grows out of our weaknesses” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
“If you think a weakness can be turned into a strength, I hate to tell you this, but that’s another weakness” – Jack Handy
The greatest weakness of all is the great fear of appearing weak” – Jacques Beniqne Bossuel
“Sometimes our greatest strength come from our weakness.” – Source Unknown
I believe in the power of weakness.” – Pat Buckley

So apparently, these people (along with a whole lot of others) seem to view weakness as something that is ok…
I don’t know how I feel about that, honestly.
See, In my very short lifetime, I’ve had to become strong. I was forced to pull out the man in me and become rock hard. As time went by, I realized that the strength in my soul wasn’t just necessary for me, but for other people. That other people depended on me to be strong for them.
So, having weaknesses, is really not something I want. It’s not something that appeals to me at all.
And no, this has nothing to do with the whole, “macho man” thing that we men have going on. Okay, it probably has something to do with it. It’s being said that  “The strength of women is the pretense of weakness, and the weakness of men is the pretense of strength”, so I guess that as a man, I also require myself to be strong.

But I think, that my issue with having weaknesses goes a lil deeper. I mean, every man sometimes uses the “I’m only human” excuse to cover up their faults, therefore admitting to themselves that it’s alright to be weak sometimes. And even I have come to admit it. I have weaknesses. Yes I do. I just hate it so fucking much. It may also be because I give off this air of being someone who isn’t affected by what people do. That I don’t really give a damn about you attitude which I exude works just fine for me. That ice cold wall that very few can pass through is a haven for my mind.
“Solitude is strength; to depend on the presence of the crowd is weakness. The man who needs a mob to nerve him is much more alone than he imagines.” –  Paul Brunton


I’m an intense person. That in itself is a weakness, but also comes as an advantage from time to time.

I don’t like the feeling that there are things that I can feel, that I have no control over. That something can occur to make my mind work against me, & there’s nothing I can do about it. The very idea of it is crippling. It makes me feel like ripping my heart off & replacing it with some slab of stone that can’t be reached.

Maybe that’s my problem…that I’ve stopped doing that.

One thing worse than knowing you have weaknesses, is finding a weakness that you never knew you had, & having to come to the pure realization that, you’re a bit weaker than you imagined you were…especially when you want to believe that you have the weaknesses down to the barest minimum.

Recently, I’ve come to the realization of the existence of a weakness. It stems from something that I always knew was in me….but I never knew that it would become a weakness. Maybe because I’ve never given the chance for it to happen. Or…maybe that’s not it. Maybe because I’ve never noticed it. But now I have. Now it’s hit me. And what’s worse, it’s irrational. And what’s even worse, is that the fact that I know that’s it’s irrational isn’t in anyway enough to help me overcome it.

Well, I don’t know how I’m gonna overcome this. I don’t know if it’s even something I should overcome. Maybe in this weakness, I can gain some form of strength. I have no idea.

I pride myself on being strong,
A man reborn from the ashes,
Of a confused American youth,
But hairline fractures so often,
Erupt wetly down this face,
The tributaries collected in,
Off brand white tissue.
I pride myself on being a father,
But deep inside of my being,
I still feel like a lost child,
Loved but overprotected,
From the thorns that so often,
Pierce my tender sides,
From black roses of society.
I pride myself on being a husband,
A man that would die in her place,
But I always feel like sometimes,
I have never done enough,
For her to justify her love,
To a man who outside is strong,
But within feels so drained.
I pride myself on being a worker,
Dedicated to putting food on the table,
Each and every week of my life,
But sometimes the burden is so heavy,
That I wonder if I’m still alive,
After so much mindless repetition,
A slave to the blank time card.
I pride myself on being a poet,
My words pouring forth from my soul,
But sometimes I feel so hollow,
And the words become cruel parodies,
Of my original intentions and message,
An ink-born embyro that was aborted,
Before it got a chance to shine.
But deep inside my being I know,
That Uruz lies in wait to spark,
A fire to a heart that has grown cold,
So many times in the near past,
And In this rune of mine I stand,
A greater man before you all,
And in my thoughts and prayers,
To all of the weak and sick,
I pray that no matter what you call it,
Uruz will come back to you too.
– Brian Andrew Rainey
I don’t know if this poem has anything to do with how I feel right now…but it resonates with my soul right now. I don’t even know if you understand what the hell I’m saying…but well…I don’t know what to say about that.

About The Capoeira Panda

Panda makes his home in the world of words and metaphors. In the hopes to be more than just a confused blogger, he currently works as the editor for an ecommerce company that was good enough to hire him, and lives with his flat mates & two imaginary dogs who get along just fine. He enjoys reading good books, writing, relaxing with his friends, & poking fun at his mother over the phone. When he's not doing any of these, he sometimes sits back and wonders why anyone expects to learn anything useful about him by reading this bio. View all posts by The Capoeira Panda

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